


The Fault In Our Concussions

by daughterofrohan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Other, concussion fic, gobby, i wrote this while i was concussed pls don't @ me, tasteful gobby romance, the only reason this is even being posted is bc of excessive pressure from the group chat, ur welcome chilis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 05:27:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12029136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daughterofrohan/pseuds/daughterofrohan
Summary: While on an evening walk through Hogwarts, Dobby happens upon the arrest of Smeagol, who Snape and McGonagall assume to be a rogue house elf. So begins Dobby's quest to free Smeagol once and for all.// i wrote this while i had a concussion please don't @ me





	The Fault In Our Concussions

**Author's Note:**

> a list of my mistakes you should learn from:
> 
> -do not open microsoft word while concussed  
> -definitely do not write fanfiction while concussed  
> -if you happen upon this fanfiction 8 months later, ABSOLUTELY do not tell your group chat about it, because they will pressure you into posting it publicly on the internet

Night was Dobby’s favourite time to wander the hallways of Hogwarts. The students were all in bed, or at least, they were supposed to be, and the torches were glimmering in their brackets, throwing long shadows across the stone walls. It was times like these that he couldn’t help but think about how lucky he was to have Hogwarts as his home, and how much he owed to Harry Potter for freeing him from long torturous years of being the Malfoys’ house elf.

It just so happened that on today, of all days, Dobby was wearing the very sock Harry Potter had used to trick his old master into freeing him. He paused briefly to admire the sock, pulled up to his left knee. Just as he was about to continue walking, the sound of voices coming down the hallway towards him caused him to pause.

Slinking back into the shadows, Dobby pressed himself as close to the wall as possible, thanking Merlin that house elves seemed to be invisible to their masters most of the time. The two voices came ever closer, absorbed in a heated argument.

“Minerva, I don’t think it right to bother the Headmaster with this trivial-”

“Do _not_ tell me how to do my job, Severus.”

“The creature is harmless. Some sort of twisted runaway house elf, I assume.”

“The Headmaster will be the judge of that. Until then, it stays in the dungeons.”

Snape’s boots were heavy on the floor as he and McGonagall swept by without even a glance towards the shadowy corner where Dobby was hiding. Behind them trailed a small hunched creature that seemed to be emitting some sort of faint hissing noise.

Dobby had heard tell of the magic that bound a house elf to its master, and the awful things that happened if one tried to escape. He had never known anyone to attempt it, but staring at this strange creature, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was what he was seeing. If that was the case, this poor creature certainly didn’t deserve to be hidden away in the dungeons.

Padding softly down the hallway, careful to stick to the shadows, Dobby followed Snape and McGonagall through the dim, winding hallways of the Hogwarts dungeons, pausing a short distance behind them as McGonagall paused to pull a key from within her robes. “He’ll stay here until I speak with the Headmaster.”

Snape made a faint _tsk_ -ing noise, but commented no further, despite the fact that he clearly disagreed with this course of action. The keys jangled eerily as McGonagall slipped them back beneath the folds of her robes. “Thank you for your help, Severus.” With a curt nod in his direction, she swept off down the hallway, presumably headed for Dumbledore’s office.

Dobby waited until both Snape and McGonagall were out of sight and the sound of their footsteps had receded before cautiously approaching the door. The creature behind it was shrouded in darkness, still emitting the hissing noise that Dobby had heard earlier.

“He-hello?”

More hissing was the only response.

Dobby strengthened his resolve. “Hello. My name is Dobby. I’m a house elf, like you. Dobby can help you.”

“Precioussssss.”

“Precious,” said Dobby. “That’s a nice name.”

“Precioussssss,” the creature repeated, more insistently this time.

“Dobby can help,” Dobby said again, hoping that he meant it. “Or at least, Dobby knows of someone who can.”

* * *

“Miss Granger!” Dobby squeaked from beside the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. “Dobby needs your help urgently!”

Hermione turned her head, bushy hair cascading over her shoulder. “Dobby! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“No, no,” Dobby chuckled nervously, “Dobby is not supposed to be in the Great Hall during lunch hours but this is an urgent matter!”

“Of course,” Hermione nodded earnestly. “What is it?”

“Dobby wonders if…if we might speak privately? In the kitchens?”

“Can we come?” Ron’s head appeared over Hermione’s shoulder, a broad grin spread across his face.

“Ron,” Hermione admonished sternly. “I’m not sure it-”

“Master Weasley is always welcome!” Dobby said joyfully.

“Ha!” Ron shoved Hermione’s shoulder playfully. “We’ll see you soon, Dobby!”

* * *

“It’s difficult to say,” Hermione told Dobby seriously as Ron and Harry sat beside her, sipping on Butterbeer and sharing a plate of pumpkin pasties. “Unfortunately, most of the literature seems to gloss over the concept of house elves and the specifics of the magical ownership bond.”

“But if we give it clothes-” Ron began around a mouthful of food.

Hermione shook her head, cutting him off. “That’s not how it _works_ , Ron. Only a house elf’s master can free them.”

“I dunno,” Harry shrugged, looking from Ron to Hermione and back again. “I think Dobby’s idea is worth a shot.”

Dobby looked up at Harry, beaming from ear to ear. “ _Thank you,_ Harry Potter, sir. Dobby will try it right away!”

“Here, Dobby,” said Ron, bending down to peel the socks off of his feet. “You can take these.”

“ _Ron!”_ Hermione wrinkled her noise distastefully, but Dobby looked overjoyed by the offering.

“Thank you Master Weasley, sir! Dobby will make sure they are put to good use!”

Ron shook his head, smiling fondly as Dobby ran out of the kitchens, socks flapping behind him. “He’s _mental_ , that one.”

* * *

It was well past midnight by the time Dobby found the courage to sneak back into the dungeons, his feet padding softly along the now familiar path, Ron’s socks rolled up into a ball in his hand.

“Hello?” he whispered through the bars of the door, hoping that the creature hadn’t been taken elsewhere by the Headmaster.

Relief flooded Dobby’s body as he was answered by a faint hissing noise. “Preciousssssss.”

“Dobby brought socks.” Dobby lifted the bundle in his hand, shoving it between two of the bars.

The creature in the cell lifted its hand to touch the socks and then hesitated, hand hanging frozen in mid-air.

“Dobby can free you,” Dobby insisted, attempting to shove the socks further into the cell.

“Free,” repeated the creature.

“Yes, free!” Dobby nodded earnestly. “Free like Dobby!

“Free,” the creature repeated again, stretching its hand out to touch the socks. Once its hand made contact with the socks, however, it backed away into a corner of the cell, hissing.

“Please,” Dobby pleaded, hand trembling as he continued to hold out the socks. “Let Dobby free you.”

“Free,” the creature repeated one last time, shaking its head sadly. “No, no, no, no. Smeagol can never be free.”


End file.
